Chapter Sixteen

 

 

 

Will was already up, gun out and racing to the back of the restaurant before Sara’s scream split the air the second time. At the first cry, every inch of his body felt like he’d been dipped in ice. It didn’t stop him from diving down the hall without his team.

He spotted her pressed against the wall outside the washrooms. Her hands were flat to the wooden surface as she shook her head.

Troy yelled for him to wait, but he ignored him and grabbed Sara. He pressed her behind his body and aimed at the man cowering in the bathroom. His brain processed that the greasy, dirty man on the floor wasn’t Potter at the same time as he took his finger off the trigger. He didn’t lower his weapon, though. The man was still a threat to her no matter that he scooted back, hands up and shaking as he kept blubbering they had the wrong man.

“Dude, slow down, seriously, you got the wrong man here!”

Her purse was on the floor at the man’s feet. The random things women held so dear spilled out all over the dirty tiles. She’d thrown it at the guy, apparently.

Not taking his eyes off the target he asked her, “What happened?”

“He was climbing down, I think, or maybe out. I threw my purse at him when he tried to come toward me.” She shook so badly her words wobbled.

He tightened his grip on her hand for a second, then let her hold onto his belt. “Keep hold of me here. I need to know where you are at all times.” He kept his weapon trained on the protesting target, but felt her whisper “okay” against his shoulder. He needed to get her away from the possible threat.

“Get me answers,” he directed at Troy.

Troy headed for the guy.

Sara flinched at his words, but held on tighter to his belt. He could feel her fingers at his waist. The surety she was safe—this time—eased his rage enough for him to stand aside so Troy could haul the man up by his filthy T-shirt.

He met her frightened eyes only once, then took her hand and pulled her down the hall and past Carson.

“Jones, follow me.”

He shoved past the double doors and into the kitchen, assessing the area silently before he allowed her entrance. Madison was down, so was his wife. Will kept his focus on getting Sara secured. At the back of the kitchen, he carefully headed to where the walk-in coolers stood side by side. He ushered her to the first one, checked that it was secure and pulled her to the back wall. She stared at him wild-eyed, but wasn’t crying.

“I want you to stay here. Jones will be outside this door. He’s not allowing anyone past it. Can you shoot a gun?”

She shook her head frantically.

“All right. Then I’m leaving you this one.” He pulled his extra side arm free and showed her.

“I can’t. I said no.”

“The safety is off. Do not put your finger on the trigger unless you know for a fact that the person you aim it at is someone you want dead. Understood?”

She didn’t want to take the Sauer. He saw it in her expression, but he curled her hands around the grip, away from the trigger, and eased her down onto the bags of flour piled on a crate against the wall. “I have to go check on what went wrong. I need to know you are going to stay right here.”

“I will.” She finally took the gun. “He got through. He knew I was here. He—”

He covered her soft lips with his finger then lowered his other hand, palm down, and raised it, repeating the action. “Breathe. Breathe for me, okay? I will get you the answers. Believe me. Until then, stay here and remember, you point that gun at someone, be prepared to kill them.”

He couldn’t say more, couldn’t force himself to do more. At her quick, frightened nod, he stood and walked out, jerking Jones by his shirt so he was nose to nose with him. “If anyone comes near this spot, you kill them. Understood? No one gets in there, and she doesn’t come out.”

“Got it, I got it, Bryson, man I—”

Will dropped the smaller man and headed for the main part of the kitchen again. He reached the spot where Madison was down in time to catch Carson shoving past the kitchen doors. “The perimeter is clear.”

Madison had a pulse. His wife’s was also steady. Both were stable. But Madison had a bloody wound on his left temple. His wife had a sluggish slice along her jaw line. One of the huge silver pots with one handle lay next to them. There was blood on the bottom of it. Either the guy in the bathroom had accomplished this or someone else. Will plugged his com into his ear and clicked it on.

“Bryson here. Perimeter. Check.”

Static then, “Thomas here, sir. All clear. We have a net on the entire area. The only one allowed through was the Budweiser delivery, twenty minutes ago.”

If the driver did this, does he have an accomplice? “How many in the truck?”

“One, sir.”

“You checked the back, where he stores the beer?”

A pause, then Thomas came back on. “That’s a negative, sir.”

Carson met his eyes. “We’ve checked the truck now and tracked the driver. No one else with him.”

“Are you a hundred percent on him being alone?” Will’s instincts flared.

“Yes, the area is clear.”

There was more going on. Something much worse than two bodies down with bumps on their heads was happening or about to happen. “I’ll go do a sweep myself—”

“And you’ll waste all our time if you do. Troy, bring him in here,” Carson called, holding one of the swinging doors open for Troy.

Troy walked in, dragging the scrawny bastard with him.

“Hey, hey man, I was leaving. I was told to listen, that’s all, man, listen!”

‘Listen’. The words resonated as if the bastard had used him as a tuning fork.

“And you knocked a woman and man out to do that?” he asked, holstering his gun and pulling out his knife. “You see this knife? It’s a six-inch double-sided piece of artwork, and sharp enough to slice your fingers off as easily as it cuts through butter.”

“Man, man, seriously, I barely hit them. I swear.”

“What do you think, Will? Madison’s a big guy, no doubt he didn’t go down easy. I’m actually shocked a pimple-faced kid like you had enough muscle to get the job done.” Troy slammed him down onto one of the chairs near the counter. “I say we wait and let Madison wake up, and see what he thinks.”

“I say we cut off a finger for each answer we don’t like.” Will ran his thumb over the edge of his knife.

Troy raised his eyebrows, but Will was deadly serious.

“You can’t do that! I know my rights. You can’t—”

Will grabbed his arm. Troy took him by the throat and Will settled the knife along the knuckle of his first finger. “I want answers. Are you going to give them to me?”

“Absolutely!” Spittle flew from his mouth in his hurry to answer. “Dude, I swear, anything you want.”

“Is he wired?” Will asked Troy, not releasing his hold or lifting the knife.

“No, he’s a rat, sent in to sniff around.”

“Is that so? A rat?”

The guy nodded frantically, completely willing to agree to anything. “Did you bring anyone with you in that truck?”

“No, God, no, man. My partner called in today. I had to come alone.”

“What about inside the back of the truck?”

“No way, no one could ride in there. It’s cold, I swear.”

“Is he telling me the truth, Troy?”

The guy squirmed then seemed to realize that would only make Will press down harder with the knife. A line of blood eased around the knife edge.

“So far. He drove a delivery truck, stopped at the 7-11 up the highway, then came here, as scheduled. We checked with Madison, before we let him pass. But he met a woman in the store. She handed him an envelope filled with five thousand dollars after they talked for three minutes.”

The guy swallowed nosily, and his face grew redder. Sweat beaded on his greasy forehead and his breathing went ragged enough for Will to pull up a little to ease the disgusting smell.

“Who do you meet after this?”

“Her. She said I would get more money when I met her after this drive. I wasn’t supposed to go down there again, it’s not on my route, but if I did, they’d give me the same amount.”

“They?”

“She has someone interested in what I heard. That’s all. Someone, she didn’t say who, I swear to God she didn’t say who.”

Will let up on the knife and wiped the edges on the man’s shirt. After, he stood, fingering the hilt as he studied the truthfulness of the confession. “I think you have something more to say, don’t you? If not, I’m not sure what more we need you for.”

At first, he shook his head but when Will settled his blade exactly where it’d been before, sobbing began in wet, heavy breaths that smelled like a dumpster.

“She made me think I’d have more than money waiting, man, that’s all. You know? She was hot, and the way she was, I thought she was saying more than money waited. That’s it, I swear to you. That’s all I know, man, but if you let me go—”

“Enough. Keep him quiet,” Will muttered.

Carson met his eyes steadily.

“We’ll have eyes on her.” Carson nodded to Troy as he joined them. “We need to let this guy go so he can report in with her, then follow her to the source, otherwise we lose this chance.”

“What the fuck—?” Will grimaced then lowered his voice. “What chance? This is how he does business. Don’t you get it? He doesn’t come out of cover. He never comes out, does he? He waits and lets others do his work for him. We follow her, it’s to another person, who then goes to another, and so on. If it even happens that way. He can pick up his phone and get a message, too, Carson. Then what? How many resources do you have? Enough men to track her, and anyone else he’s using?”

“We have a chance at nailing him,” Troy argued.

“He doesn’t allow chances, Troy. Think. You’re the profiler. Has he ever left a trail to follow?”

“No, but that doesn’t mean he won’t foul up.”

“I agree,” Carson said. “We follow the girl to him. Think, son, think. This could be done.”

Will considered the angles, and finally looked away to where the guy was watching them, clearly freaked out and so scared Will was surprised he’d hadn’t pissed himself. “If she’s any good, she’ll know he’s lying.”

“If she’s anyone other than a messenger.” Troy shook his head. “Potter works alone. He doesn’t work with women—ever. He kills women.”

Will considered the possibilities of Potter fouling up this badly, and in the end, couldn’t chance losing any opportunity they got.

“Wire him. I want to see this woman for myself. And get as many men as you can on the store, but don’t weaken the circle around Sara. No one is allowed in, no one.”

“Are you taking her back to the house?” Carson asked, at least giving him that.

It was nearly four in the afternoon. If they drove out from here, they’d arrive after dark at their first stop. He wasn’t gambling like that with her, not without going straight to the nearest military base. He had a sense that even there she wouldn’t be secure. But would she be at home? He could drive all night, and let her sleep in the truck. They could go anywhere and no one, not Potter or even the men he now worked with, could find them.

“One more night, that might make him believe that this guy didn’t get caught,” Troy said.

“One more night, then we leave in the morning. I want in on the guy’s meet. Feed me the transmission over my phone.”

Troy glanced over at the guy then back at him. “I’ll get him prepped and out the door. Are you taking a different route to her house?”

“Yeah, we’ll go back roads,” he replied, wondering why Troy asked. He’d never worked with the Ranger before. The one mission with Petrock, but he didn’t trust the man. He also didn’t think his interest in Sara was strictly mission-level. It was personal. He’d have to explain things to him soon because the constant attention to what he already considered his claim, was mixing with the rage brought on by Potter. The combination wasn’t good.

“I want a location, Ranger. Sooner rather than later.” He walked away, already prepping himself for facing Sara and what had to be a million questions.

 

* * * *

 

Sara stared out of the passenger window of the truck and worried her sleeves. Her fingers trembled but so did the rest of her. She couldn’t stop it, but she tried, which only made it worse. Once she’d had minor surgery on her leg. They hadn’t put her under completely. She’d lodged a huge chunk of wood in her thigh climbing around in an old barn with Paris. The doctor had been abrupt, as if she’d rather be doing anything else in the universe. She’d given her a few shots, said ‘calm down’ and gotten busy with whatever it was doctors needed to prepare before slicing a person open. Sara had lain on that table, trembling harder and harder and unable to stop. Not even when the doctor examined the prepped area had she been able to hold still.

Thankfully, the horrid doctor had been interrupted and when she’d gone to listen to another person, the older, nicer nurse had leaned close and told her that she would be fine. Sara had confessed her fear about the trembling and the nurse had smiled warmly and informed her that the trembles were a reaction to the drug she’d been given. That they would ease off soon, and the doctor should have told her that.

The knowledge had eased her panic and the trembling.

It was amazing what information, the right facts, could do to fear. She’d been so afraid of Ashton Potter that she’d tried to blame her own weakness for her fear. But her fear was justified—like it had been all those years ago. She should fear Potter because William did, and so did all those hard, highly trained battle-weary men in the restaurant. They couldn’t protect her—not really.

“You’re pretty silent. I had this ride pinned down as one question after another from you.”

She glanced over and met William’s concerned gaze. “I guess I don’t know where to start.”

He studied the highway ahead of him. “We’re going to leave early tomorrow. I’d like to be loaded and ready by four, but even if we leave by five, we’ll reach where I’m thinking by early evening.”

“Where are you thinking?” she asked, laughing lightly at the way he’d said that—as if it was a secret.

“Lake Cumberland. You ever been to Kentucky?”

“Uh, no. Isn’t Kentucky several states away?”

A smile and a quick glance at her had her body igniting. Something about his smile did it for her. “Around seven, if we use the shortest route.”

The response was so nonchalant she laughed again. “This isn’t happening. It’s like some horror movie.”

“You watch horror movies?”

“No, and that’s not the point, and you know it.”

He didn’t respond other than to wink at her, which was completely unfair because that quick her mind went from panic to something as equally heart pounding—excitement. This isn’t a vacation. It’s dangerous, but maybe it’s so dangerous it’s unreal.

“What kind of movies do you like?”

She smoothed her hands up and down her arms, trying to ease the chills. Movies. Such a mundane question compared to how she was going to survive with a sick pervert after her.

“I like happy movies.”

“Happy movies, huh? Is that a genre?”

“Sure. I like movies that end with a happy ending.”

“Ah, like romance movies.”

“No, not always. I mean you never know if those are going to end well. I mean, some of them have one of the people dying at the end. I seriously don’t like that.”

He chuckled and eased back in his seat, resting his wrist on the steering wheel as if driving at eighty miles an hour was boring. And easy. It probably was. “So, you like to read the reviews before you watch a movie, looking for those spoilers, huh?”

“Sure. I hate being surprised by things.”

Clearly, he’d thought she’d deny it. But he shook his head and smiled. “I can get that. How did you get the job teaching mid-year?”

The change of subject made her frown and glance over at him again. He was driving, watching the road, the rearview mirrors and her, all without a sign of difficulty. He’d stopped once already and watched something on his phone, ear buds in. She hadn’t asked what. His expression had been so tense and hard she hadn’t wanted to know. Afterward, he’d put his phone away and started the truck up again, taking a side highway they’d not used before. It made sense changing routes, but the older highway was a great deal bumpier.

“Sara?”

“Oh, sorry, yeah, so it was simple. I interviewed for a long-term substitute position, and after a week, they offered me the contract. I got it for the next year, too. I was lucky really. The previous ESL teacher was off for maternity leave, but we’d met and she’d shared she was moving to Texas, and that I would be a great fit, so she’d let them know earlier than she’d planned.” If I still have my job when this is over. If I survive…

“Does that matter? If she let them know or not?”

“Sure, it frees up the contract. It’s all union stuff.”

He got quiet again for a little while as he passed a few slower cars. She liked how he drove. He didn’t race around cars, or anything dangerous, he drove, like it was the easiest thing in the world. Probably to him it was.

“But you’re teaching under your mom’s maiden name.”

She ducked her head to hide the sudden rush of heat on her face as she realized he’d really checked into her. “Wow, you really did your research.”

“Of course. So, how did you accomplish that?”

“Easy. After my dad left my mom broken-hearted for a woman half his age, my mom went back to her maiden name. I did, as well, in support of her, you know.” He gave her such a loaded stare she waved at him to watch the road again. “Eyes on the road, please.”

“Sure thing.” He laughed. “So, your parents split up?”

“Yeah. You didn’t catch that?”

“I caught that but not the name change.”

“It’s not official, but I got my driver’s license here in my mom’s maiden name.”

“Huh, and you did that how?”

She shrugged uncomfortably. It wasn’t as if she was drinking under age or something with a fake ID. She’d asked a friend, they’d made a few tiny changes on her birth certificate, and voilà, she wasn’t Stevens any longer. At least to the state of Florida. “Is this really important? Are you the last name police suddenly?”

Surprising her, he laughed. It was such a sexy sound that she shivered. What about him wasn’t sexy though? Even the way he sat, legs wide apart, was thrilling. Maybe because you know why he does.

“So, you teach.”

She raised her eyebrows at his tone. He sounded like that surprised him. “Yeah. I teach ESL.”

“What’s your plan? To teach?”

“You mean my life plan?”

He lifted a big shoulder in a shrug. “Sure, yeah.”

“Uh, yeah, I want to teach. Teaching is a good, solid job. I already made arrangements with my landlord. He’s a guy living in China. He’s willing to do a rent to own with me.”

“Huh, is that so?”

“You already know that.”

He glanced over and by the smile she guessed he did. “I know some of it. I’d like to hear it from you.”

“Well.” She sighed and examined his profile. “I guess being a full-time teacher, with a contract promised for next year, and all was good enough for him. I had to put some down, but he’s a decent guy. Fair and he was a teacher here, before he went to China.”

“How much did you put down?”

She shot him a grin and waited until he glanced over and realized how rude that was.

“I’m curious.”

“Yeah? Why so curious? Are you looking to buy a home?”

Laughing he raised his hand and did that hair rubbing thing again. “I’m trying to keep the conversation light.”

She got the distinct impression he wasn’t talking about the threat of a serial killer, but something a lot hotter. The tension in his shoulders, even though he was trying for casual penetrated her brain and she swept her gaze downward, unable to stop herself. There, under the folds of his cargo shorts she could see a bulge that made her stomach nosedive to her toes.

“Oh, well, um, I always wanted a house like this one. With lilacs out by the street, and a nice kitchen and backyard. House, kids, dog, everyone’s dream.”

“That’s your dream? A house with kids?”

“Yeah, and a husband, you know? Those are kinda essential.”

“So, you’re not bitter about your dad? Thinking all men are losers?” He gave her a pretty penetrating stare, until his gaze dipped down to her chest, then lower. She swore her nipples hardened faster than if he’d dropped a bucket of ice water on her boobs. He went back to the road. “You’re still willing to trust someone?”

“Well.” She debated how honest to be with him, since she had her doubts about exactly what he wanted from her—besides his obvious move toward sex. And maybe to see her breasts. The road was bumpy and with those rough spots, her chest moved up and down pretty drastically. So far, she’d only been able to spot one quick stare, and even that had been more hot than…creepy. Nothing about William was creepy. In fact, she had an idea if he pulled over and asked her to come bring her lips a little closer for a taste of what he had under his cargos, she’d probably have considered it the hottest thing ever. But who is he? The man who fixes up a car and has it ready for me, or the seducer on a mission and always ready for fun? What fun it would be too…a blow job while he drives?

“Not sure, huh?”

Ripped out of her first blow job on the highway fantasy, she had to clear her throat and wipe her sweaty palms on her thighs before she managed to answer. “I hope they aren’t, how’s that?”

For some reason, that made him relax his grip on the wheel and ease back in the seat. She thought he stretched his leg out, no doubt needing some space down there, but she kept her eyes glued on the white lines on her side of the highway. Her heart beat like crazy though, and she had to remind herself to breathe because she kept fantasying about turning him inside out while he had to navigate the road. No doubt he’d do a wonderful job of it, too.